CHAPTER 4

Chapter 4
When different worlds collide


Esme


Chris.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so rude this morning.

After all, he only wanted what was best for me.

Yet, as I strolled through the grey courtyard, the noisy Red Blazers Sea parting quickly before me, my mind rolled itself back to those horrid memories; it was Chris that had grounded me all those times, Chris who left in that police station for a night after the joyride in that police car. It had been Chris who had embarrassed me in front of the mafia occasionally, pulling me away from many oh-so-promising street races that I could have easily won. It was Chris….

No.

I won’t answer.

With a defiant frown, I tossed the ringing cell phone back into my pocket and continued my solemn march across the grounds.

Just as it always was, the courtyard was busy with lunch. Students gathered at tables in their different cliques, red blazers pulled tightly over bodies in an attempt to shy away from the untiring chill. An icy gale swept over the grey stones and red bodies, just as it had yesterday; the only difference this afternoon was the heavy, turbulent black clouds that boomed above. Low rumbles of far-away thunder threatened down from up above, the white hot zigzags of lightening stretching their fingers in the shuddering dark. Dried brown leaves swirled above heads and around feet, the last of autumn’s tears caught in invisible arms. Despite it all, the junior and senior class of Redfield Institute continued with their lunch outside; nobody wanted to give up their all so important tables.

Unlike the others, I didn’t bother to even wear my blazer.

I hate that bloody thing.

As I made my way through the dispersing red cloud, my mind still fixed on this morning’s argument with Chris, my subconscious picked up a familiar image from the corner of my eye; Riddle sat at a lonely grey table, her ink black hair plastered down on her head by the wind. Small shoulders hunched her body over the silver tray as she nibbled into her casserole, her shaggy black hair falling over those strange eyes of hers. Pale hands held up her lunch as she nodded her head at something, her green tie pulled back over her red-clad shoulder in protection. Pale white cheekbones stuck out of her small face, pressing gently against her black fringe.

Ah.

Perfect.

Something to get my mind of Chris.

Say, last night.

As I moved through the crowd, changing course in my wake, my eyes prove to correct my earlier analysis; the strange girl from yesterday was not alone. Sitting beside her at the table was a pretty blond boy, his golden curls dancing in the rushing wind. Even from this distance, at least 10 meters away, it was obvious to see that the boy was a thing of beauty; he was freaking sculptured like a Greek God. Bright golden curls kissed against a handsome pale face, his lily white skin soft and tender under the wavering sunlight. His slightly long hair was sleek wet over his head, streams of curling gold drawn back in a single, smooth movement; it was as if his hair was made of out of the purest of gold. His face was an envy of even me-a strong, defined chin and a flawless, angular nose fitted his pale face perfectly, his bright green eyes flashing with mischief and humour. Cold, strong hands waved about animatedly as he chattered excitedly to Riddle, a cocky, delicious grin cracking white gleaming teeth across the pale skin. A heavy red blazer dangled dangerously over his back; the smooth, white shirt clung to his body like a second skin, his white muscles rippling beneath the pale cloth. The green tie hung loosely around his neck.

God.

He was beautiful!

……

I think Morgan dated him before.

“Yo,” I greeted simply as I finally approached the table, my feet pulling me out of the red crowd and smack infront of my destination. Behind the cobbled table, Riddle and her companion raised their heads at me; Riddle drew up her face from her food, her brow folding in on itself at the sight of me. Haunting silver eyes stared across the table through the bank of falling black, her eyebrows rising slightly. Beside her, the good-looking blonde imitated her expression.

As the silence stretched between us three, I finally heaved an irritated sigh.

“Wow. Silence. Is that the only greeting you know, Riddle?”
Without even waiting for a reply, I deftly placed my silver tray down onto the cobbles with a loud thud, the clear glass of apple juice trembling at the impact. My cold legs moved quickly over the bench, climbing over the grey seat. In a single movement, my butt was planted heavily down on the slab of stone, fingers momentarily abandoning my tray to neat out my skirt. Above us all, the gale kicked up another notch, its icy breath whipping my bronze hair past my face.

“Delicious, isn’t it,” I grinned an easy smile up at my two new companions, matching their blank, are-you-kidding-me stares with a charming glow, “Tuna Tuesday. I wish everyday was Tuna Day.” Directly opposite me, Riddle half-leaned forward, her eyes glinting slight annoyance.

“Did I say or do something last night that gave you the idea that this was ok?”

“What are you talking about? I happened to remember that you yourself, silver eyes, invited me for lunch last night. Have you forgotten already?” My lips ended up over my tuna casserole, the sweet smell of fresh tuna stinging my nose with flavour. My stomach growled.

“Hmm…in the principal’s office?”

“Why you-…”

Before she could continue, the pretty blonde boy reached forward a white hand and pulled Riddle back by her sleeve, drawing her face towards his in a rough motion. Up close, I could now see that Mr. Greek God wasn’t all that perfect; little flecks of near-invisible freckles dotted his pearly white skin, splaying across his fine features, soothing them. Across his left eye ran a thin scar, almost undetectable in the light.

He was still good-looking, though.

“Last night?” the blonde boy hissed into his friend’s ear, his bright green eyes keeping on me with a strange glint, “What the hell, Riddle?! Did something happen last night?! Something I should know about?! Did you frigging have you know…sex with her or something like that!?” His white fingers kept their hold on Riddle’s sleeve as he whispered fiercely to her, his words loud enough but me to hear.

Stupid fool.

In a rather bored voice, Riddle gingerly nodded.

“Yes, I did and after that, we went to a bar to get ourselves drunk. Then we had some drugs and was stoned till the morning…no I didn’t, you asshole! Use your brain for once.”

“Then what is it like, Riddle? Since when have you and Hot Pants over there even been nice-…”

“I can hear you, you know,” I finally decided to cut in, washing down part of casserole with a mouthful of Coke. Opposite me, the pretty boy and Riddle parted abruptly, eyes flashing their attention back to me. The white hand released Riddle’s sleeve.

For a moment or so, silence engulfed us like a blanket, smothering us. It was a little awkward, really, but I would have it no other way. After all, who knows what nonsense could come out of these idiot’s mouths? The wind continued its cold, unforgiving whipping as I munched on my casserole; one thing good about this damn school was that it always had good tuna. Leeching cold wrapped themselves around my bare legs, chilling me to my bones. My hair needed to be combed down.

Finally, out of the silence, the pretty blonde boy leaned forward and spoke to me directly for the first time, raising a single dark eyebrow.

“Can I ask you a question?” Never in my 17 years had I seen eyes so green. Instead of answering him, I raised my eyes from my food and gazed calmly at the boy, meeting his eyes with mine. The cold stung my skin like fire. After a few seconds, the boy proceeded to talk, his eyes glinting a mischievous light.

“That deal of yours, the one with the devil; can I get in?”

I stared blankly at the blonde boy before turning to the Riddle with a raised eyebrow.

“Who’s the moron?”
“Just ignore Alex,” Riddle answered me with a calm smile, a smile that always seem to infuriate me these days, “I don’t know if you have noticed b-…

“Are we sitting here from now on?”

All three heads snapped up as a boyish voice cut Riddle off; standing beside the table, frowning curiously down at us was none other then my John, his brown side-bangs sweeping into the frail wind. Red cheeks blossomed beneath tranquil azure eyes in the cold, his red blazer hooked at the top like so many others in the courtyard. The tight green tie around his neck trembled against the white shirt, the wind reaching under the cloth and puffing it out in places. Like all, a silver tray glinted in his hands.

“Temporarily, love,” I smiled at my old friend, forgetting the other two instantly, “Sit, anyway.”

In the background, the pretty blonde boy openly groaned. With a simple shrug, eyes downcast, John took the seat beside me, setting his silver tray down on the cobbled table top with gentle hands. Without much thought, he placed himself directly opposite Mr. Greek God; the latter glared at the oblivious boy with squinted green eyes, like an alpha lion cautious of a new male.

What a moron.

As John eased his way into comfort, Riddle raised her eyebrow and made to speak, opening her mouth. However, I cut her off in time, my gold eyes shinning at the boy beside me.

“Are you going to eat that?”

“Yes, I am,” John replied with a sour expression as he finally made himself comfortable, a tanned hand blocking the tuna casserole from me instinctively, “Get your own. Besides, you know how sick you get when you eat too much tuna.”

“That only happens when I cook them myself,” I grumbled, my face screwing up slightly at the thought, “Besides, I’m starved. Couldn’t you spare some?”

“Didn’t you eat breakfast?”


“Are you kidding me? Of course I did! It doesn’t change the fact that I’m still hungry!”

“You’re a pig,” John accused with narrow eyes, hand still shielding his tuna, “You know that? The biggest one I have ever seen.”
“Look who’s talking, Mr Eat-Al-…”
“As interesting as all this is, really,” Riddle interrupted me, quite rudely if you ask me, “Can you two pl-…”

Once again, poor Riddle was interrupted; at the other end of the cobbled table, the familiar face of Morgan slammed her silver tray down onto the grey, splattering specks of white tuna into the windy air. All 4 heads snapped in her direction. As it always was with the Irish girl, Morgan Bell looked beautiful; her thick black hair was tied behind her in a tight ponytail, not a strand astray as the wind hushed her cheeks red. Fierce blue eyes flashed down at them as her manicured hands gripped the edges of her tray tightly, stinging red at the forceful effort. Pure frustration burned in her pretty blues, her sleek white forehead bent and crinkled in anger. Beside Riddle, Alex collapsed his head against the black cobbles in absolute defeat.

“Morgan?”

Without replying me, Morgan muttered a soft curse and quickly slid into the seat beside John, knocking the silver tray angrily across the cobbles. Cheeks flushed red with anger as she neated out her plaited skirt deftly. Beneath her prim red blazer, the white shirt and green tie seemed untouched by the wind. Her long black ponytail swished away behind her head, the pair of silver clips glinting at her ear. Anger radiated off her in waves.

“Are you okay?” John looked at the raven-haired girl beside him cautiously, edging slowly towards me as Morgan stomped her way through lunch. Her firm shoulders pulled her back a razor sharp.

“You know what?” She snapped curtly as her eyes kept on the wrapped lunch in her hand, her Irish accent rolling over her tongue in thick waves, “No. No. I’m not okay. I’m bloody furious!” Opposite us, Riddle and Alex were completely ignored; instead, Morgan busied herself with the tuna casserole, fingers fiercely tearing the dainty silver wrapping apart. Her breath came out in quick stabs. After a short, gale-ridden pause, I raised both my eyebrows.

“Ooooooookayyyyy…” I tried on a wary smile as darting gazes were exchanged between John and I. The gale whipped my chin-length hair harshly against my cheek, like a leather whip. Another pause stretched, before I continued on with a heavy sigh.

“Did I do something again, M? Because if I did, whatever I did, I’m really, really-…”

“It has nothing to do with you, Esme,” Morgan cut me of curtly, her voice as crisp as the frail air, “It’s my bloody parents.” With that, she ended her thickly-accented sentence with a vicious dig into her food, perfect white teeth biting savagely. Opposite from her, Riddle watched with a slight smile as the pretty blonde boy raised a single eyebrow. A ripple of a muscle jumped at his smooth white jaw; it was as if the sight of Morgan seemed to put him off a little.

Hell.

Maybe they did go out, after all.

“Parents?” John voiced in, dropping his own lunch as he looked upon our friend with genuine concern. Despite the icy wind, a bead of sweat rolled down his neck. Beside him, I voiced my own concerns.

“Oh, oh. Thick accent trouble. What they do now?”

“My mum lost the Bendel deal.”

“WHAT?!” John’s voice seemed to carry on for yards as his voiced my exact thought; WTF?! His blue eyes drew open with surprise as the feisty girl beside him.

“Impossible!” I snapped out my own analysis of the situation as my face screwed up helplessly, the very thought of Mrs. Bell’s loss repulsing me for some unknown reason, “Your mum designed the spring collection for them already; they just can’t quit on her like that!” It was true, to say the very least. I may not know lot about fashion but from all the top fashion shows my brother had me attend for the sake of publicity, I had learned a few things; one of which was that contracts drawn between partners in this business could not be easily forgotten, and the other being that Katherine Bell’s designs were epic in her own right.

Something must have gone wrong, obviously.

Morgan’s next words stuck to my prediction.

“Not unless it’s caught up in a legal matter,” the pretty brunette simply muttered into her hand as she stuffed the last of her casserole into her mouth, not even caring a slightest for grace. Her fierce black ponytail lashed against the turbulent wind. Opposite me, Riddle watched with an interested smile. Her pretty friend’s lips cocked a humoured grin.

“WHAT?!” John seemed to like that word a lot as he’s already wide eyes magnified at Morgan, his jaw dropping down slightly. His tuna casserole laid undisturbed in his hand. Mine was a different matter all together.

“I nmwo!” Morgan sourly yelled, her delicate mouth stuffed with tuna.

“How-…”
“What on earth did your mother do now?” I cut John off with a sigh, regrettably dropping my tuna heaven back on my plate. Something told me that Morgan deserved my every attention. In a slight huff, swallowing her tuna quickly, the dark-haired girl began to explain, her Irish accent thicker then ever as she glared a pair of shaky blue at us.

“It’s my fawther, really. He’s bloody doing this. H-He’s insistin’ that Mama’s usin’ my child support for the spring collection. Can you believe that?! Mama would never-…”
“Did she?”

“ESME!!!”

“What?! It’s pos-…”

Opposite me, Riddle finally got tired of it all; in sickly fake voice, she leaned forward, a stupid smile plastered across her white face.

“Look, as much as this amuses me, will you three please get lost?” Her white beamed startling rays as her black hair pulled across her face, partially hiding her silver eyes, “You are all very noisy. Your stupidity and nonsensical conversation is all making me very annoyed.” Beside her, the pretty blonde boy nodded his agreement, a Cheshire grin stretching across his fine features.

At the voice, the three of us stopped conversing abruptly; with snaps of heads, we turned startled stares at Riddle and her friend. The wind pulled at all our hairs. In those blank few seconds, silence covered us all, our minds oblivious to the turning world of red around us. The pillar of gloom and black smiled easily beside the smirking gold beside her, silver and green eyes returning our blank, impassive stares. At the corner, a distant cry called among the red.

Finally, Morgan tore through the silence, her crisp voice tightening as she spoke.

“Where the hell did you two come from?” she bit savagely, licking her tuna-covered lips as her blue eyes stared down the blonde boy before her, “And since when was it okay to be even near me, Alex? What are you like? I thought I made it clear that I can’t stand even the sight of you.” Her eyebrows deepened in growing frustration as she kept her undoubting gaze at the pretty boy opposite her, ripples of muscles jumping at her jaw. At the other end of the table, the pretty boy-Alex-matched her unnerving stare with an untouched smirk.

Ah, yes.

They definitely dated.

……

Well, I can’t keep up with all of Morgan’s boyfriends, now can I?!

“Hey,” Alex retorted smoothly as the smirk kept to his lips, lighting up his handsome face with a naughty glint, “I can sit wherever I want, whenev-…”

“Shut up, you two,” I finally clicked out of it, my voice snapping viciously at the quarreling old lovers. Ex-flames could be so annoying. Turning my screwed face away from them, I leaned slightly over the table, focusing my attention back on my initial target.

“Listen, Riddle. I have an idea about the case with that Clare girl. I was thinking-…”“What case?” John finally decided to make himself heard again, swiveling on the grey seat to turn a raised eyebrow at me. His curiosity was always so maddening. As his eyes shrank back into its normal size, Alex voiced out his own query, ignoring Morgan completely.

“Clare? What about Clare?”
“What the bloody hell are you two talking about?” Morgan joined in, abandoning her previous trail of conversation.

“WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP?!?!”
Just as I finished my exasperated shout, a chorus of laughing sprang from the center of the courtyard, spreading in waves. All 5 heads at the table turned to see what the commotion was about; Sarah stood in the center of the red crowd, surrounded by a convoy of laughing minions. Her hands were on her hips as she snickered down at someone; the blonde bobbing head of Clare struggled to pick up her splattered tuna from floor, her tray strayed away from her fall. Laughter resounded around her as she raised a tuna-covered knee to rise once again; Sarah shoved her back down to her shoes with a hard push to the head. Blonde strands flew in the unrelentless wind.

“TUNA!”








Riddle




Sarah and the Barbie doll gang were making quite a scene. A scene worthy of being a movie called, “Pretty rich girl, gone bad.” The scene at the courtyard was disturbing. Clare was being pushed down onto the ground repeatedly by one of Sarah’s 6 followers. All pretty, rich and terribly blond. Blond people, ah blond people, don’t get me wrong I have nothing against them…I glanced sideways at the dark blond girl beside me. Esme was staring at the wasted tuna with enough fury to kill. Why do blond people always give me trouble?

Clare was struggling to get up again when she was shoved forward and kicked in the stomach. Some students were laughing at the scenes, others glancing away. The teachers, obviously taking notice of the scene ignored it. See, the thing about being in a rich school is that sometimes certain students get special privileges and Sarah Hue Johnson was one of them. Her father owns half of the trading companies in New York and some of the largest corporations around the world. On which being the largest donator to our school, no one dares touch Sarah…except well now.

Clare cried out again as she was shoved to the ground, some people laughed and I felt boiling anger rushing through my blood. “That’s why I told you to leave her…” I whispered under my breath. “I told her…”
“Rid,” Alex whispered behind me, seeing my clenched hand, “Are you alright?”
He grabs my wrist and tried to pull me back to the seat. He wasn’t laughing like he normally would. I turned to smirk at him and he winced. “Rid…don’t tell me…”
“Tuna…” I heard Esme murmuring beside me as she saw another plate land on the floor. I broke off laughing and Alex, John, Morgan and Esme turned to face me looking at me like I was mad or something. I grab the Esme’s plate from the table we were eating it and grab the tuna casserole.

‘Rid…what are you going to do…I wouldn’t do that if I were you…” Alex said, his voice high pitched, he glanced at the wide eyed Esme who was now glaring at me with fire in her eyes.

“Yes, Miss Riddle, I don’t think you should do that…” Morgan whispered behind me. The boy John was still munching on his food enjoying the show. Well, Esme has some weird friends...

‘What the hell are you going to do with my tuna…?” Esme said her voice dangerously low. Her eyes glared at me beneath her dark blond chin length hair.

“Let’s play catch shall we?” I said calmly and with a giant swish of my arm I threw the tuna casserole into the air. The casserole sailed through the air fast and furious; it flew towards Sarah and her gang. As I had planned, once I threw the casserole, Esme took off after it with surprising speed. She dashed through the courtyard, pushing screaming people out of the way and leaping over obstacles.

Placing my hand on my fore head, like a soldier greeting his superior, I whistled. I really threw the casserole far. “Rid, what the hell are you doing!? You just offended the fire girl!?” Alex shouted at me, taking me by both shoulders and shaking me hard.

“What did you just call Esme…she’s not the fire girl, you flirt, she’s Esme Conner!” Morgan shouted at Alex who flinched.

“Great,” John whispered and I smirked taking off after Esme Conner.

Esme did a beautiful ballerina leap into the air and caught the casserole, baseball style. She landed flat on one of Sarah’s followers who gave a mighty scream. Esme crashed onto the ground, the girl beneath her gave a tiny shriek before her head fell to the ground. It was obvious that she had fainted.

“My oh my,” I whispered. The consequences of my actions and Esme would land us in deep trouble but did I care, no…because right now my anger was getting the better of me, I call this absolute stupidity. Sarah was screaming at Esme who was cuddling her casserole in her hands and whispering, “My precious tuna, you are alright,” she murmured.

“What the hell are you doing? Bitch!” Sarah screamed at Esme. Her follower was squashed and unconscious beneath Esme.

“Playing catch,” I answered Sarah who turned to me quickly. Her face screwed up in anger.

“YOU! RIDDLE FROM DAY ONE I KNEW YOU WOULD BE TROUBLE!” she screamed so loudly, she got the whole school’s attention. Now all eyes were upon us and the tension was very strong.

“Rid, I think we should head back,” Alex whispered into my ear. Morgan and he had ran here, John still eating peacefully at the table. I shrugged him off and walked calmly towards Clare who was on the ground, sobbing. Her skirt was in ruins, her blouse torn up. I saw a bloody scar on her knees and the bruises on her stomach. Fury rushed through me and my fist clenched so tightly that my veins could be seen.

“Rid…” Alex whispered, wanting to touch my shoulder but holding back. Sarah and her followers were watching my every move. Esme was still cuddling her casserole. I bent over and picked Clare up and handed her to Alex and Morgan. “Take her to the medical office,” I told Alex.

“But…” Alex said.

“Just go!” I said to him, he tensed and with the help of Morgan carry the injured Clare to the medical office.

I turned to Sarah, who pointed her finger at me. Her followers surrounded me and Esme. I snorted, yes snorted like a pig and walked towards Esme and patted her shoulder.
“How’s your tuna casserole?” I asked her casually.

Esme stood up and pointed her finger at me, “YOU!” She shouted, shocking me her voice deep and filled with anger. I raised both my hands in front of me. “Hold on a minute, there’s no need to get so angry…it’s just tuna,” I said before laughing. “Right?”

“YOU! I WILL MAKE YOU PAY!” Esme shouted.

“Are you going to ignore me, Riddle!” Sarah shouted her followers coming in on us. This situation was laughable. Try imagining this Barbie dolls up against gorillas…who would win…?

The answers pretty clear of course.

“I’m not ignoring you, I was just making sure Esme casseroles were ok,” I told Sarah. Upon hearing that both Esme and Sarah shouted at me at the same time.

Two things happened then; Esme lunged at me, a follower of Sarah’s stepped behind me and was about to smash her petty hands onto my hair. Esme’s fist came closer and the follower’s hand was reaching the top of my hair.
Watching lots of slow mo national geographic films’ always does the trick. I turned sideways; the follower missed my head and fell forward. Esme fist came next, catching the follower full on the cheeks. There was a loud “WHAMP!” and the follower fell to the ground, groaning in pain, blood escaping her mouth.

“Whoa,” I said. Sarah gave a shriek and I dodge and incoming follower who had reached out to grab my waist pincer style but missed completely, clasping air. Esme who missed me sent a nice punch to the girl’s neck. The girl fell back choking.

“One little two little three little weasel…” I said, dodging Esme with everything I got, it wasn’t easy, Esme was very fast and her blows very hard, you could feel the force behind them.

A stood in front of a follower who was about to kick me and Esme came at me running at full speed with her fist out stretched, I squat and Esme fist crashed into the girl’s fore head, I heard a crack as the girl’s head cracked awkwardly backwards.

“Pop goes the weasel,” I whispered, smirking.
‘What are you doing!? Get them!” Sarah shouted at her remaining two followers. The two followers were terrified, their hands shaking and their legs crooked. Their looks insignificant. I dodged another of Esme punch and leapt onto the table.

Esme who couldn’t stop one of her punches in time, crashed into one of the followers and they went tumbling down. Esme landing on the girl who faint immediately groaning as she fainted. The last follower started to scream, I vaguely remembered her name it was Mary, Mary I think. She began to run; standing on top of the table I smirk.

“Mary had a little lamb,” I sang.

I leapt off the table, feeling myself defy gravity I landed with my two shoes on the last follower’s face. She fell backwards and using her face as a spring board I pushed off, before somersaulting 360 degrees into the air and landing on the ground and doing a gymnastic landing.

“It became roasted lamb,” I whispered.

Esme came from behind me and I almost gasped, I didn’t see her coming. I side stepped her quickly and she stumbled forward while I stumbled sideways.

“WHY YOU- MY FATHER WOULD HEAR OF THIS!” Sarah screamed at us, this time however, she was scared, absolutely horrified. Esme and I flicked out heads to her. My smirk disappeared and a look of pure anger erupted from within.

“I hate petty SPOILT, BIMBOTIC, STUPID girls!” I said, half shouting. Sarah backed away as I approached her. Something came up from behind me and I felt something sharp graze my wrist, pain erupted. I dodge it never the less as it gave a loud hit. I heard a cracking sound. I looked behind and saw Esme with her fist clenched, her teeth baring. Her fist had just smacked into Sarah’s beautiful nose, which was now bleeding badly. There was a loud defeating silence from around the courtyard.

Then there were cheers as Sarah fell smack down moaning, “My nose, my beautiful nose,” on the ground.

“JOKER! YOU ARE SO AWESOME!” some idiots screamed from a distance. The teachers were now running towards us and one of them was Mr Carl.

“Ah, shit,” both Esme and I said at the same time. Esme turned to glare at me and I shrugged, a smile replacing my once angry face.

“RIDDLE, ESME WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE!” Mr Carl shouted at us. I did not answer, but hung my head pretending to be repenting my actions. Esme licked her fingers, her squash tuna casserole in her hands.

“Tuna?” she asked Mr Carl who gave a loud exaggerated sigh before pointing at the school, “To the principal’s office now…” he said, before ordering the teachers to escort Sarah and her follower’s to the medical office.

“Nobody likes tuna,” Esme said stuffing the casserole into her mouth.

“Nobody does,” I agreed and began walking with her towards the office.
*
The principal no doubt gave us an ear shelling. By the time she was done, I could have sworn blood was coming out from my ears. We got off easy, since Sarah was the one that initiated the fight. When the principal heard of us defending Clare her gaze softened and she let us go home early without calling our guardians.

Esme cursed at me calling me a “PIG HEADED BITCH” before she left and took off in the opposite direction. I laughed and walked the opposite direction before bumping into someone. I looked up and found myself staring at Ben. My smile disappeared and he smiled weakly at me.

“Riddle,” he greeted. I glanced at him and found that his anime figurine was not with him. Weird? What was he doing here? What was this fat blob doing here?

“Riddle, the fight you did this afternoon was very good…but dangerous…” he told me. He was stuttering and it was beginning to irritate me.

“So? What about it?” I asked him. He fidgets with his fingers, twirling it around, something about it I find oddly familiar…oddly painful. Irritation filled me and I began to walk again.

“I don’t like you getting hurt,” Ben finally told me. Oh my god, was this guy my mother? What was his problem!

“SO?” I asked him. He approached me and handed me a plaster, “Bandage your hurt wrist,” he told me, smiling. “And don’t do anything like this again.”
“What!? I don’t need you to tell me-“

“Just leave her alone creep,” Alex voice sounded behind me. I turned and there was Alex looking at Ben as if he was scum. Ben flinched; a hurt look crossed his face. He bowed down to both Alex and me before taking his leave.

“Rid, are you ok?” Alex asked me, “What did that anime boy do to you, gave you some anime plaster or something?” he added laughing.

I clasped Ben’s plaster tightly in my hand
“Ah, shut up,” I told Alex whose eyes widened in surprise.

“What gives Rid,” Alex asked.

“Just shut up,” I said, slapping Ben’s plaster on my injured wrist. “I hate stupid people! AH!”

“Rid…” Alex whispered, ‘You’re weird.”